“I do.”
“On what collateral?”
“My word.”
Breen leaned back in his chair. The unsophisticated innocence of this boy from the country would be amusing if it were not so stupid.
“What are you earning, Jack?” he said at last, with a half-derisive, half-humorous expression on his face.
“A thousand dollars a year.” Jack had never taken his eyes from his uncle's face, nor had he moved a muscle of his body.
“And it would take you ten years to pay it if you dumped it all in?”
“Yes.”
“Got anything else to offer?” This came in a less supercilious tone. The calm, direct manner of the young man had begun to have its effect.
“Nothing but my ore property.”